


Good Looking

by BobaMcFetty



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (Cartoon 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Surprisingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobaMcFetty/pseuds/BobaMcFetty
Summary: Lydia thinks about what makes Betelgeuse attractive.  Right there on the tin, folks.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	Good Looking

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this while listening to Good Looking by Suki Waterhouse (One of my favorite songs please go check it out).  
> Now I have a poll: What about Beej do /you/ find attractive? Let me know in the comments!  
> Thank you for reading, loves.

“You’re too pretty for him, Lydia.” Barbara didn’t mean for that to hurt like it did. Or maybe she did, Lydia can never tell with her backhanded compliments. But that didn’t stop the pang of hurt and resulting awkward silence that filled the kitchen until Barbara conveniently thought of a reason to excuse herself.

Too pretty. 

Lydia knows she’s attractive. It feels arrogant to say so, but she’s never had issues with her appearance. But to say that she’s too attractive for him? Not the case.

Betelgeuse is not attractive in the traditional sense both inside and out. Lydia knows what he’s capable of – what he’s done – perhaps more than anyone, and that’s enough to turn any sane person off. With every bout of confessions on his part, heartfelt nights where he spills his guts and regrets in front of her, he expects her to come to her senses and leave. She never does.

Because yes, he should be unattractive. He’s dead and gross and unpleasant to be around. Thing is, that makes him her type. Night of the Living dead, and this time she doesn’t have to peek under the sheets to see that.

Here in the glow of a drive-in movie, she can see the shadowed contours of his face. Betel is handsome, almost cute in a boyish way. His eye sockets are bruised a purpled black, but that only serves to make his blue eyes brighter. More alive. They’re intense, whether they’re twinkling with mischief or misty with emotion (only she is allowed to see them like that). 

He looks old and young at the same time. There are light wrinkles by his eyes and prominent lines on his forehead. Betel told her he died sometime in his late thirties, making the receded hairline that much more unfortunate. The moss that clings to his body fills in that empty space and Lydia adores it. It makes him seem ancient, more like the eldritch, supernatural powerhouse he is. It clings to his pale skin and reminds her of a cemetery statue.

His cheeks are perfect for quick, well-aimed kisses. With his high cheekbones, his face is still softly rounded. She loves his small Roman nose. It doesn’t dominate his face and connects to a strong browline. Below that, his mouth: Soft lips, light stubble that offers the ideal amount of scratch, a patch of green she often runs her thumb over. Betelgeuse isn’t the best kisser, but Lydia is more than happy to melt into him anyways. Then there’s his smile. Oh God. It has no business being as charming as it is, not with those rotting teeth and beetle-encrusted gums. But it is, and every cheeky smile he sends her way has Lydia flushing all over again, wondering how her family hasn’t been won over by his smile alone.

His jawline is soft, something she knows men are often self-conscious about. Betelgeuse isn’t self-conscious about anything, and it compliments his features anyways. Then comes his neck. Lydia is obsessed with it. It’s long and thick and perfect for pushing your face into on cold mornings.

Betel’s physique is lacking. His arms and chest are fairly toned unlike his beer-rounded gut. Yet again, that’s something she loves. It makes her feel so small under him when he weighs her down with it, wirey hair tickling her flat stomach. He’s large despite his five foot nine stature.

And lastly, his voice. It’s rough and rumbley with a thick almost-southern accent she can’t quite place. It scratches in just the right tone. She could listen to it all day.

He is attractive, Lydia thinks. A real good looking boy, pulling her closer after he catches her staring.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” He teases, “Movie really that boring yer gonna stare at my ugly mug all night?”

Lydia comes down from her haze, now meeting his eyes directly. Such blue, blue eyes in the light of the movie.

“As much as I’m enjoying The Monster Tongue that Ate Chicago, I like looking at you more.”

It’s only natural that their faces drift closer until their noses bump, lips only a breath apart.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

No, Lydia is not too pretty for him. In fact, they’re just right for each other. And as usual, the rest of the movie goes ignored.


End file.
